What They Never Told You In History Class
by MedicalNonsense
Summary: Since its foundation, Stanford has had a steady history of disappearing women; not according to the law it hasn't. The students beg to differ, it has caught the attention of Sam and Dean. A certain blonde student is appearing at parties, and in old photos
1. Sunday Morning

Hi all! So uh, yeah, this was something that I've been wanting to do and a friend of mine and I wondered how a crossover like this would go XD So that's the birth of this idea, won't be very long. Fun to be the first person in a category I think! Anyway, if my Hetalia readers are taking a look around thank you! You're the best ;)

Anyone that reads my Hetalia fictions though knows what's up with the dead people XD

Involved Characters: Dean, Sam, America, Canada, Castiel, Gabriel, Prussia, Germany

()()()()()

**Sunday Morning**

"You're an idiot." Canada informed his brother, staring at the sight before him. This was the fifth person in a month. Usually, he didn't care, he turned a blind eye to his brother's frivolities, not saying he_ approved_, but what could he do to discourage him?

"I know." His brother moaned, holding his head in his bloodied hands. "I try! I do... But being discreet has never been my thing. I didn't even get to have sex this time!" America seemed more remorseful over _that_ than actually killing the woman face-down on the floor. "I don't know how much longer I can stand this! Help me Mattie!"

Canada looked at his brother again, the sincere pleading in his eyes and he sighed. "Come up sometime, whores in my home are just as good."

"Ew, but they're all-"

"Not true!" Matthew huffed, cutting Alfred off. "Or, if you're so desperate you could ju-"

"Matthew..." It was Alfred's turn to cut off his brother, "It won't work. He's been so... Adamant?" He looked to Matthew for confirmation that this was the correct word, "Yes, adamant in staying away."

"Ever think that maybe it's _because_ of your need to roam?" Matthew offered an explanation and Alfred sighed, shaking his head.

"No. He's always understood before! Why now?" Alfred was genuinely baffled and Matthew did not want to say what he knew in his heart.

_Ever think that he just got fed up? _He thought about telling him, knowing his brother wouldn't understand. It was amazing the stern man put up with his wanderings as long as he did. But Matthew chalked it up to him being heartbroken and needing someone to cling to despite how unfaithful his lover was.

"I'll talk to Gilbert, okay?" Matthew offered, his brother looking away. God, the proud son of a bitch needed to get over himself. He always had problems admitting how much someone meant to him. Always if they said they needed space he didn't pursue. The great man who never relented in politics and poking his nose in other people's business was too afraid to handle human matters.

"Help me clean up this mess." Alfred asked, through with contemplating and ready for action (it was amazing the contemplation happened at all, given his personality). Matt looked out the window at the dark street, closing the blinds shortly after. They both leaned over and grabbed the corpse, beginning their age-old method of disposal.

()()()

Meanwhile, just a mere ten blocks from the two, a black '67 Chevy Impala pulled into a somewhat shady in nature motel. Neither of the two occupants of the car were particularly eager to get caught up in a gang fight, but it was the cheapest place they could find.

"So Sammy, what's it like to be back?" Dean asked, getting out of the car to register.

"What do you think?" His little brother retorted with another question. "I mean… Did you just take this job to see my reaction when we got here?"

"No. Though it was a plus." Dean joked, going inside, leaving Sam in the car. Never had it particularly occurred to him that he would end up back here. Last time he had been here he had been completely unwilling to leave, and now he just wanted to get away from it. It almost symbolized everything he could have had if Dean hadn't come "knocking" one day. Almost as if fate itself had… Sam snorted bitterly at the thought of fate. Fate had said he was going to say yes to Lucifer (which, yeah he had…), fate had said the world was going to end (which, hurrah! That didn't!).

"Alright, all checked in." Dean got back into the car, finding a parking space and unloading it.

"In the off chance of this actually being our type of thing, any theories?" Sam inquired, dropping his stuff to his bed and unpacking.

"With how weird all the monsters have been acting recently, it could be anything. All are young women attending Stanford University, between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-six. All were brought back to either their homes or dorm rooms before they died rather bloodily. There have been no bodies." Dean informed him, "There have been four discovered like this in the last month alone, but women go missing from here quite often over the years from as far back as when the college was founded..." At this news Sam's brow furrowed. "In the last six years though, its calmed down dramatically, only a few women disappearing total. It started up again full force two months ago."

"I don't remember that..." Sam said, he had even looked it up upon first hearing of the job. Official news reports were nowhere to be seen, had Dean been deliberately _looking_ for some reason to come back here?

"Not what the friends of the victims say. You think someone's been trying to cover it up?" It always was a possibility, but if it was true that meant it was more government business than anything else. But steady disappearances for years and years and this sudden outburst had to mean something wasn't right. "We're not going to get anything done for at least…" Dean's eyes flicked to the clock on the nightstand in the room, "Five more hours. So, I suggest we get some shut-eye." He quickly stripped his clothes off, throwing them into a pile on top of his bag. Sam followed suit, being the first in the bathroom to brush his teeth, successfully frustrating Dean as he tried to shoulder in. "Move it Sasquatch."

"Not a chance." Sam easily shoved his brother aside for full custody of the sink. His older brother rolled his eyes, realizing he was going to have to wait his turn (not an easy thing for him to accept).

"Bitch."

"Jerk." They both smiled at each other, Sam eventually finishing brushing his teeth and leaving the bathroom for Dean.

()()()

Across the world, in Germany, yet another pair of brothers were together. One lazily watching television drinking a beer, the other cleaning in his kitchen. Their Italian friend had come over last night and had created quite a mess of flour.

"_Hey_, Westen! _Get me another beer while you're in there_!" Gilbert called, crushing the can in his hand and absently tossing it to the garbage can (which it glanced off from and landed on the wooden floor).

"_Get it yourself_!" Ludwig grumbled, he'd been in such a bad mood since breaking it off with America. Why he had even been able to _stand _the man had been totally beyond him. But people do stupid things in the midst of sadness.

"_Respect your older brother_! _Did I raise an ingrate_?" The albino called back, trying to guilt the younger man into doing his bidding.

"_Which of us is still alive_?" He heard from the kitchen and Gilbert groaned.

"_All the more reason to be nice to me_!" An annoyed sound emanated from the kitchen and Gilbert knew he had won. Ludwig momentarily leaned out of the kitchen and tossed a can of beer to him. "Vicdory!" The older brother declared, opening the can for its contents to spray up into his face. He sputtered a few times, his face and clothes wet and it took him a moment to realize what had just happened. "_You fucking shook it up_! _Beer waster_!" He taunted, Ludwig seemingly unaffected, Gilbert thrust himself up from the couch and stalked over to the doorway of the kitchen. The broad back of his sweeping brother was before him, his shoulders tense and brooding. The albino crushed the can in hand and tossed it at his little brother, it bouncing off his gelled head.

The German looked down at the can on the ground and without complaining, leaned down to pick it up, effortlessly throwing it perfectly into the garbage can.

"Don'd mess up my kitchen. Nod today." Ludwig practically pled, still cleaning, Gilbert just gave him the face of "I will do whatever I goddamn please thank you very much". He opened his mouth to say as much, but his phone rang, "Fruhling in Paris" playing from his pocket.

"Hallo Mattie." Gilbert greeted; as Matthew spoke to him, his eyes flicked to his cleaning little brother, "I don'd dink so." He shook his head, Ludwig putting away his broom to begin work on cleaning the stovetop. "_Bruder_?" Gilbert took the phone away from his ear to address him.

"Vhat?" The blonde looked over his shoulder for a minute, gathering the phone call was about him.

"America vands us ofer for dinner, on Tuestay." Gilbert on the inside knew that America had no idea of this dinner, it was all Matthew. But that was his lover, doing things for their idiot brothers just so they could be happy. On the other side, Gilbert supposed it made the both of them happy too. Matt wouldn't have to help his brother so often with body disposal, nor would he have to listen to him gripe and whine, and Gilbert could have fun with his brother. Pensive, brooding Ludwig was just irritating.

"Vhat is today?"

"_Sonntag_." For a few seconds it almost looked like he was going to say no. But for some odd reason, whether it was sheer curiosity or he was beginning to forgive Alfred (no one could say) he replied with "_Ja_. I'll go."

Gilbert smirked, bringing the phone back to his ear, "Ve'll be dere!" he happily informed the blonde on the other end of the line, "I lof you too." the albino kissed at the phone and closed it. Ludwig was sure he was _never_ going to get used to seeing Gilbert as being an actually affectionate lover.

"Soh, you dinking aboud forgifing him?" The older of the two asked, throwing his arm heartily around the younger's shoulder.

"Nod really."

Gilbert blinked, slightly confused, "Den vhy goh?"

"I need to gif him _some_ chance, I guess." His older brother could tell that he didn't really feel that way. It wasn't an "I guess" he really _needed_ to. The tall German needed someone and if that person was America well so be it.

"Vell, led's ged de kitchen clean, _ja_?" It was the first time in eighteen months (Ludwig kept track) that Prussia had actually offered to help rather than having to be bullied into it.

"Ahre you feeling alrighd?" Ludwig attempted to joke and Gilbert laughed.

"Am I efer 'ahlrighd' _Westen_?" He allowed himself a small smile, banishing it before thrusting a paint scraper into his older brother's hands.

"Clean." Was his order and Gilbert sighed, why had he even offered?

()()()

The last set of brothers, the angelic brothers, were working a job in Paris. Or rather, had been; after retrieving the missing artifact Gabriel became more interested in the sweets he could find in the country. Of all the nations he had been in, terrorizing or what have you, France he was in the least of all. He couldn't say he understood why either, their chocolates were sinful! No pun intended.

"Do we really have time for this?" Castiel tried to get him to move on from the chocolate shop, but Gabriel refused to be moved.

"I didn't have to help you. You know I don't give a rat's ass what things are like at home." He plucked two boxes of gourmet chocolates from a shelf, fully intending to _buy_ them. "Besides, you have your little toy. What's the rush?" Cas rolled his eyes, following the risen archangel through the shop as he found a multitude of other sugary creations that caught his fancy. With a snap of his fingers, the two boxes of chocolates disappeared from his hand, ending up only Dad knows where. "It's not like you're eager to go back either… Are you?" It wasn't really a question with how slyly it was posed.

Cas looked away, knowing what Gabriel was referring to, "Be that as it may, I must return this."

"Well, you can do it yourself. I'm not going back up there." There was the fluttering of wings and Castiel was gone, leaving Gabriel all alone in an upscale candy shop… The archangel suddenly had the urge to laugh evilly, but he was an angel! He did not… Oh what the hell? He chuckled in the back of his throat, his brother appearing again thereafter.

"What did you do?" Cas asked, slight worry in his eyes as they darted around the shop.

"Nothing…" Gabriel said, truly innocent for the first time in a thousand years.

"Excuse me if I don't believe you."

"No, really, nothing…" The other angel still didn't look completely trusting, but in the end was forced to say the man hadn't done anything, he had no proof and no one was dead or otherwise. "Anyway, getting anything for Dean while here?"

"Why would I?" Cas blinked, tipping his head to the side.

"You are his 'huggy-bear'." Gabriel sniggered at Dean's odd and somewhat derogatory nickname for the least cheerful of angels.

"You know Dean doesn't like gifts like chocolate." The taller of the two insisted, thinking it stupid to get Dean such a gift. It wasn't as if he didn't want to give gifts to the man, he was just difficult to buy for. He bought him a bouquet of roses once after seeing a man and woman exchange them and while Dean had been grateful, he also seemed the least bit insulted. Cas just figured it was better now to refrain from such displays of affection.

"Why not try anyway?"

"Because, unlike Sam Dean isn't…"

"Secure in his masculinity?" Gabriel chuckled under his breath to himself.

"Needy." Castiel corrected flatly.

"Oh he's not?" The older angel snorted disbelievingly. "At least send him this." He held out a palm-sized chocolate heart. "It's cheesy, but it's something." Cas plucked the confectionary out of Gabe's hand and gave it a once over.

"Why do you suddenly care?"

"You're my brother Castiel. And, Dean is Sam's, can't have him getting jealous and pissy can I?" Gabriel winked and Cas waved a hand over the heart, it disappearing. "Good boy!" He patted his brother on the head, his other hand feeding himself a stolen chocolate. "What time do you think it is where they are?" They both left the chocolate shop, walking around the beautiful city as a cool wind blew.

Cas thought for a minute, Dean had prayed to him earlier the prior day telling him where they were going, it had seemed significant for a reason. "They are at a place called Stanford California." Gabriel's eyes flicked to him, amusement playing across his features.

"Sam's old college was there." Well, that must've been it, "Sometime past two then." the ginger mused, he giggled. "If they were asleep Sam just got an interesting wake-up call."

A curious eyebrow climbed up Cas' forehead, "Dare I ask what you did with the chocolates?" Then Gabriel's phone went off "I Want Candy" playing from his pocket. Not only was it grossly treasonous for Gabriel to even _know_ who Aaron Carter was, but the song itself just made the whole thing that much worse. Of course, that was something akin to what Dean would have said, Cas on the other hand didn't catch this horrendous act for what it was.

"Hey babe!" Gabe greeted Sam on the phone, "Mm, what are you gonna shove into me?" He said slyly, "One good shove deserves another after all." There was a sigh and an eye roll, "Yeah, yeah, I know, blah, blah, blah, no wonder that's all Dean ever remembers you saying." Gabe chuckled then, "Didn't enjoy the sticky goodness in your boxers then?" Cas' eyebrows turned down in confusion at the turn the conversation had taken. "Awww, poor baby, want me to come and clean it up for you?" The archangel quirked his brows a few times, licking his lips. "Fine. It was only a half-box anyway. The other chocolates, you might have found out are still in their boxes."

Gabriel's company was beginning to become annoyed, he could possibly have left this plane of existence and the older wouldn't have noticed. Impatience had seemed to be one of the many things he had picked up from Earth. Not that anyone particularly cared, it was just a part of who he was now.

"Paris, didn't you read the box?" Gabe explained, suddenly frowning as if thinking, "Yeah, Castiel is here." His eyes flicked to his now interested little brother. "Okay, I'll tell him. Take a shower and go back to sleep. Love ya babe." He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket and turning to Castiel. "Sam wants you to help them out with a job they're working."

"Dean never a-"

"Because he's Dean." Gabe cut him off with a knowing smirk. "Obviously, I'm going to tag along, I haven't seen my Sammy in almost a week." If Castiel were the type to, he would have pointed out that he hadn't seen Dean in a little under a month as the two were well-accustomed to spending large amounts of time away from each other. Dean still prayed, of course, or if it was the off chance Cas' phone was on they would call or text as well.

"I have no objections." They both shared a look, the same thought coming to mind. _Dean will._ Cas was more with calm affection, Gabriel though, oh he looked forward to annoying the elder Winchester as much as possible. When Gabe's phone buzzed in his pants he plucked the phone out, taking a look at the screen.

"It's the address they're at." He showed the screen to Cas and he was gone in a flash Gabriel couldn't staunch a smile. His little brother was so cute when excited.

()()()()()

Notes:

"_Italics_!"-Denotes the speaking of a language other than English where the bulk of the parties can understand it.

Accents-I loves them, not changing' 'em.

Foreign Languages-Yes, they are present, there will always be translations.

Westen-West, it's Prussia's nickname for Germany, since it is a nickname in their home language, it will always be Westen.

Bruder-Brother

Sonntag-Sunday

Ja-Yes

Funnily enough, when I originally thought of this story, it never occurred to me that all the characters in it are brothers…


	2. Sunday

As I wrote this, I drew waaaaay too many parallels… Can you find the ones I'm referring to? This chapter will also throw lots of numbers at you that aren't really of importance, I will better explain the whole surface age vs. true age at the end of the chapter.

Also, I am American myself and so I poke loooooots of fun at my "motherland" (ever wonder why Germany is the only nation referred to as the "fatherland"? Lol) Anyway, I'll get out of your hair, enjoy.

()()()()()

**Sunday**

Dean rolled over in bed to his stomach, feeling something hard press against his face uncomfortably. Groaning, he lifted his head and grudgingly opened his eyes to see what the hell the offending object was. Blinking in a confused manner, he propped himself up on his elbows, picking up what appeared to be a wrapped, chocolate heart.

_What the fuck?_ He thought for a second pushing himself to sit up and cross his legs on the bed.

"It was Gabriel's idea." Surprised by the voice, Dean nearly fell off the bed as he whipped around looking for the danger. Eventually, his gaze settled on the trench coat-clad angel creeping in the corner of the room.

"How much longer is this going to happen, Cas?" Dean posed, tossing the heart from hand to hand.

For a second, Castiel looked a little bit flustered and confused, "You mean the gifts?" His head tipped hopelessly to the side. Dean chuckled concluding tossing the heart to safely into his bag.

"No, you having a problem using doors."

"Forever." Castiel asserted, making Dean chuckle again and shove himself up from his bed.

"What are you doing here anyway?" The older Winchester cast his still sleeping brother a glance to make sure they weren't wakening him.

"Sam requested my presence." The angel explained, watching Dean change his clothes, "I wanted to see you as well and hoped you felt the same."

"Yeah, yeah, I wanted to see you too." Pulling his shirt on, Dean paused for a moment, thinking something over, "Sam asked you to come?"

"That is correct."

"Does that mean he also asked for that douchebag to come?" He turned to face his angel, annoyance already painted over his features.

"Yes, Gabriel will be here. I am not sure where he is at the moment." Dean shook his head, doubtlessly wishing to keep it that way. Sam and the archangel's relationship wasn't exactly one he approved of on any level. How could anyone find a way to love something that acted like _that_ all the time? Not saying Gabriel didn't have his helpful moments, but usually all he did was cause headaches.

"Might as well live it up while the gettin's good." The hunter commented, walking over to his brother and shaking him awake.

"Mmn! What?" Sam shot up in bed, looking around for any kind of threat. Finding none, he looked to Dean.

"Rise and shine." His older brother greeted and Sam dropped back to the bed tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Dean moved along to the bathroom to brush his teeth, Sam sitting up again and noticing Cas' presence.

"Morning." He mumbled and the angel nodded to him in greeting. "When did you get here?" The tallest of them stood out of bed, going to his bag of clothes.

"Sometime around two last night. While you were taking your shower." Successfully earning an odd look from Sam, the hunter asked "Why didn't I see you?"

"You weren't paying attention." There was a hint of a smirk at the edges of Castiel's lips and Sam shook his head in amusement.

"Where's Gabriel?"

"Far away, hopefully." Dean chipped in, to Sam, a rather unwelcome hope.

"I don't know." Cas replied, "He did not say when he was going to be here, only that he was." The younger Winchester nodded and stood, getting ready for a day of searching around his old campus.

Frustratingly enough though, all the evidence they had to go on were reports by students on their various blogs. It had been nearly impossible to dig up police reports and what few they did were simply marked with "NI" instead of details. The whole issue of disappearing students was pretty hush-hush. The only real reason any of the "reports" existed probably was because of the physical appearance of large bloodstains within dormitories.

"I'm ready when you are, Sammy." Dean announced, sitting down on his bed, picking the chocolate heart out of his bag and biting into it.

()()()

Alfred sat on a bench across the way from the home he had been in the prior night. A cold wind blew and he pulled his "50" jacket tighter around himself. Usually, if a person died of a heart attack he didn't visit the site of their death. But if he had to prematurely end their lives, he found it somewhat respectful to return. Some might think he mad, but it was impossible for him to be reprimanded for his crimes, something he thought rather unjustified.

Discreetly, he watched the police mill about the home through the windows, investigating the bodiless bloodstains. A curious thing happened then, a rather unorthodox car pulled up, unorthodox, but not without style. Alfred had the urge to run up to the owner of the car and ask for the year. Being able to see the rise and fall of different car fashions, it was good to see someone who appreciated the classics.

Two brothers stepped out of the car, both taller than himself. The one driving seemed to pick through a box of things in the trunk before sticking it in his coat pocket. He handed one to a true sasquatch of a man, definitely taller than Russia. Looked like they both had the potential to be just as dangerous if not cruel. He found his head tipping to the side though as examined the taller one. He looked very familiar from somewhere, but it was impossible for him to place where. As a man that had hundreds if not thousands of peoples faces memorized over the course of his history, it didn't bother him too much that he had forgotten one.

When the two men's eyes strayed over to him, he straightened up, knowing they were both scrutinizing him. One made a move to come towards him and Alfred looked to his phone for the time. Saved by Matthew, apparently he had sent him a text.

"Where are you?" It read and Alfred texted him back "Scene of the crime." he chuckled at his own wording and stood, locating the still advancing man out of the corner of his eye. Internally he cursed to himself and met the eyes of the slightly taller man. Putting his phone away he raised his brows in question.

"Can I help you?" He fixed his glasses to sit higher up on his nose.

"Uh yeah, maybe, I'm agent Tyler, FBI," The man flashed his badge and Alfred's brows knitted together, taking the badge from him. Looking it over he had to give the man credit, it sure _looked_ real, he obviously knew his stuff well. Maybe he would give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment. Alfred passed the badge back to him, skepticism still showing on his face, he motioned for "agent Tyler" to continue. "I have some questions I would like to ask if you wouldn't mind answering them."

"Shoot." Alfred said amicably.

"Good, so would you happen to know about the situation here?"

The blonde surveyed the house, "I heard that one of the students here was murdered inside. I believe a woman. Bloody, too." The agent nodded his head.

"Do you know anything about the more recent murders around here?" Hm, this man was a bit more well-informed than he had originally thought.

"I've heard just word of mouth. I always supposed they were just rumors." Alfred's eyes flicked around, looking for the other man, he was nowhere to be seen so he suspected he had gone inside the house. The agent made a note on a pad he had with him.

"That's what we've heard too. Just rumors, but the students involved in them have withdrawn from the school. Their friends claim they were killed. Do you know anyone we could talk to?" Turning pensive, Alfred tried to think of the names of his various flame's friends. Oh!

"Carl DeShawn, second year here, his girlfriend went missing about two weeks ago if I remember. You could talk to him." Agent Tyler scribbled down the name and looked back up to Alfred.

"Thanks, do you know where I can find him?" Truthfully, Alfred shook his head.

"We only talk at parties. And what's more, I got that from word of mouth too." After the agent nodded Alfred asked, "Is that all you need?"

"Could I get your cell phone number in case I have any more questions for you?" The nation nodded and quickly rattled off his civilian cell phone number, it vibrating as he did so. "Oh, and I need your name."

For a moment, Alfred debated whether or not he should give him his real name… Well, there would be no hurt as if he really were an agent the moment anyone of importance saw that name they would completely disregard the report.

"Alfred Jones, F."

"Thank you for your time." The agent turned around and headed for the house then. Alfred stared after him, taking out cell phone to look at the text Matthew had sent him. It was very unorthodox for an agent to go out on a limb and ask a passerby like him. Was his mere presence enough to tell the agent he had done it? And furthermore, if he wasn't _really_ an FBI agent, who was he?

Humming curiously, he reached into his back pocket, extricating a wallet therein. He began to walk off, looking the weathered object over. This man had been through _a lot_ if his wallet held this much wear and tear. Usually, Alfred found it too rude to simply use his abnormalities on regular humans, but this man seemed just a tiny bit threatening even if the nation couldn't be killed by human means. Opening up the wallet, he looked for a drivers license and found not one, but four! Each of them decked out with the names of various members from old bands. So he appreciated good music as well as taste in cars. His phone vibrated again and he put the wallet under his arm to look at the second text.

"U idiot! Y?" The first text read, the next one was "Leave now!", clicking "reply" Alfred typed in "Wanted to pay respects. And I am." pressing the "send" button, he flipped the phone closed, pocketing it and walking far away from the house.

After virtually dumping out all the ID cards in the wallet (a grand total of fifteen somehow) he found one that seemed the most sincere.

"Dean Winchester…" He mumbled, it was on a Kansas driver's license, issued some number of years ago, it was the only one not up to date. Maybe the guy was sentimental? Quickly, he stuffed the cards back into the wallet, the man had probably noticed by now the leather object was missing from his pockets. Sticking it back into his own pocket it once again found itself nestled safely in the back pocket of Dean Winchester's pants. Well, there was only one thing to do now, two actually; one, placate Matthew, two, run that name through a database.

()()()

"Are you sure you didn't just leave it in the motel this morning?" Sam groaned, annoyed with how Dean was currently overreacting to not being able to locate his wallet.

"Yes, Sam, I'm sure." Dean bit back, rummaging through the impala. It was then he felt a strange, but comfortable weight press to his backside. Curious, he stood up and reached into his pocket, pulling out the object in question. The look on his face said it all "wtf"?

"You didn't even lose it!" Maybe Sam was so irritable because of where they were. Or maybe it was that sticky wake-up call he had last night, either way, he was really grating on Dean's nerves.

"Listen to me Sam, this was _not_ in my back pocket when we left that house. Say what you want, but I am not that oblivious." The taller man raised his brows as if to say "oh really?" and Dean became thoughtful.

"That blonde guy I talked to… Jones…" No, that wasn't possible, when he put the notepad away it had contacted his wallet, wrinkling the paper, it hadn't been him. He would examine it more at length later. "Whatever, we gotta find this DeShawn guy."

()()()

After some easy looking up in the student directory and finding DeShawn absent from his row house the brothers were somewhat at a loss for what to do. They could call up the man Dean had spoken to earlier, or they could ask around. Seeing another resident of the house begin to walk up, he gave the two an interested stare, what were they doing here?

"Hello… Can I help you?" The man asked upon getting up to the front door of the home.

"Maybe, I'm agent Tyler and this is my associate, agent Gimble. We were called in about the recent disappearances on campus." The student raised an eyebrow at them, looking shiftily from side to side, "Do you know something that could help us?"

"Come in." Sam and Dean were ushered quickly inside and lead to the couches in the house common room. "I had thought the law had given up on Sarah. Or maybe you guys were trying to cover stuff up." He laughed nervously and the two brothers looked to each other.

"What made you think that?" Sam asked, taking a seat on the couch, Dean doing likewise.

"Well, it's just… Carl went to campus police about his girlfriend being missing almost immediately and at first they were really on it, you know? Giving updates and all that kind of thing, but then there was this very vague article in the newspaper and they just stopped. He asked if they had any news for him and they merely said it was nothing to worry about. She hadn't gone missing, she just withdrew from the school and transferred somewhere else." "Newspaper article?" Sam prodded.

"Yeah, uhm, I think we still have a copy of it somewhere." The student whose name they had yet to be given hurried out of the room and returned within about two minutes, unfolding a newspaper in hand. "Here it is." He tore a small piece of the paper from it and handed it to Dean. When he said vague he meant _vague_.

"Unknown girl missing, blood-spatter analysts say she was bludgeoned before being taken, a search for her body is being undertaken. More information at a later date." Dean mumbled to himself, Sam leaning in to read it as well.

"See what I mean? We all know it was Sarah, it's the only person it could have been." Their company nervously wrung his hands.

"Do you know _why_ the local police would want to hide this?" The younger Winchester looked from the article back to the student.

"No, besides wanting to keep the school sounding as good as possible." They all nodded, that could have been it, then their new friend chipped in, "Carl's not the only one with a story, you know." The brothers looked to him again.

"We heard that." Dean affirmed, wondering where the man was going to go with this.

"There's a party tonight at Phi Kappa Psi, you can ask nearly everyone there, doubtlessly they will have someone they know missing." Dean and Sam's eyes went wide.

"Seriously?" Sam inquired.

"Yes, when they throw parties, girls most often go missing." Yet they still continued to do them…

"Thank you." Dean watched Sam quickly scribble down the name, "I know where that is already too."

"Happy to help." The hunters stood and straightened out their clothes, they leaning in to shake the man's hand.

"We never got your name." Sam commented.

"Oh, just John Foraker." John shook both their hands quickly, Dean heading for the door afterwards, Sam giving the parting words.

Once outside, Sam asked, "We wait until tonight then?"

"That's all we really can do right now." Then Dean quirked his brows a few times, "Party night!"

()()()

Alfred scurried around his home, cleaning as he went; mostly at the prompting of Matthew who _insisted_ that Alfred clean this home if he was spending more time at it than his one in D.C. Alfred couldn't help but feel as if he were being invaded. His brother never visited that much and now wanted to hang around all the time. Either it was because he was just that awesome or Matthew had something up his sleeve that he wasn't going to like… It had to be the first, since _when_ did _Canada_ of all people/places do something out of the ordinary or devious?

However, much to Alfred's irritation, Gilbert was hanging around at this time, giving Matthew far too many ideas about what to clean. It was borderline disgusting to see him hanging off the slighter man. The sight of it made his stomach twist, as far as he was concerned, an 1000-year-old nation had no business with a nation of only about 150 years. His and _Ludwig's_ age match-ups were more appropriate he himself being the older one in the relationship. Of course… That depended upon who you asked, some people (such as Prussia, but it was more than likely a lie) asserted that Germany was at least thousand years old. However, there were certain things you didn't look too far in to. Alfred, on the surface, was about 234, if you went further back though he was well into his 400s, Matthew still only in his mid-200s. Never would he admit Prussia's surface age as only being 485, he was a man it was _all right_ to consider his full age. Of course, he was American, so he found this okay, accept what you like, throw out the rest.

"Do you two need t'do that on my couch?" Alfred asked as Prussia pressed a kiss to Matthew's cheek. He caught Prussia smirking, nuzzling his face into the strawberry-blonde's hair.

"Of course." The albino nation purred, Alfred groaning where Matthew looked annoyed with both of them. The youngest of them stood up from the couch, walking to the kitchen to look for food. Alfred mooched off of him all the time, the least he could do is repay him with a simple snack.

"Do you have anything to eat here, Al?" Matthew asked, opening the fridge.

"Got a case of the munchies?" His older brother chuckled to himself, Matthew rolling his eyes at him.

"Yes." Prussia whispered into Alfred's ear loud enough for Matthew to hear.

"Aw man! Why you always gotta smoke when I'm not around?" Alfred groused, Matthew smiling.

"Because you're lazy and nigger-lip." He explained as a matter-of-fact, "If you're going to smoke my weed at least be courteous about it." Really, Matthew also didn't want to mention his brother tended to run off when high and that was _hell_. "Regardless of whether or not I have the munchies, can I have some of this salsa in here?" Matthew asked, redirecting his gaze back to the inside of the somewhat barren refrigerator.

"Go for it." When the American turned around to head upstairs, his younger brother raised his brows, getting chips out to eat with the salsa.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To lay out clothes for tonight, I gotta be classy!" Alfred declared excitedly, darting up the stairs the rest of the way and out of sight. Well… Another party. This time Matthew was going to definitely go with him, either to help him be a bit more discreet or to completely discourage him from such ventures.

"Gil, you don't mind going do you?" The Prussian went from examining his nails to looking to his lover.

"Vhat?" Gilbert hadn't been paying a lot of attention earlier.

"The party he's doubtlessly going to tonight, you don't mind coming do you?" For a second, Matthew was worried Gilbert was going to say no, preferring to head back up to Matthew's house for the night. Appearing thoughtful, Gilbert tapped his temple a little bit eventually shrugging.

"Id's a pardy, vhy voultn'd I come?" he grinned at Matthew and the Canadian nodded in thanks.

"Want some chips?"

"_Ja_ bitch." The albino walked over to Matthew and liberated both food items from his hands, strolling away with them thereafter.

"Hey! I didn't say you could have all of them." His lover called, following him back into the living room as he plopped down on the couch.

"Vand dem? Come down und ged dem." he spoke seductively, giving a slight upward thrust of his hips.

Not missing a beat, Matthew situated himself astride Gilbert's lap, unscrewing the cap from the salsa as the Prussian opened the chips. He took a chip and dipped it into the jar in his hand, feeding it to Gilbert.

"_Danke_." Gilbert licked his lips and returned the favor, feeding Matthew one next. This whole thing didn't last long before Matthew screwed the top back on the jar, tossing the chips away. The couch was then put to a different use than its intended one, which if Alfred hadn't been blaring music up in his room probably would have become aware of. However, the important thing _was_ though that he didn't hear… Until he came downstairs.

"**Ew**!" Alfred yelled, throwing the nearest thing to him at them. This object happening to be a very old copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ meant that upon it connecting with the thrusting body of Gilbert the albino yelped "_Verfickt_!" in pain.

After being so rudely interrupted, Gilbert looked over to Matthew's older brother and snorted, "Do you _mind_?"

"It's my couch! Hell I mind!" Alfred advanced, Gilbert hurriedly pulling himself out of Matthew before tucking himself away in his pants, Matthew doing much the same. "I don't like to see you _kissing_, do you really think that I wanted to see **that**?" The American yelled at the top of his lungs, Gilbert looking nonplussed and Matthew apologetic. "I swear to God!" At least he didn't have his chainsaw around… Sighing, Alfred just stalked out of the room, Gilbert sniggering.

"Dat vas vord id." In much the same manner that Alfred had, Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes; tonight was destined to be interesting. But nowhere near as interesting as _Tuesday_ was undoubtedly going to be.

()()()()()

Notes:

True-age Vs. Surface-age-Surface age is referring to the nation's official establishment dates. In America's case, July 4, 1776 is regarded as his birth date when it's just the date of his independence, putting him at 234 years old. However, he was occupied for many years before then by England and so is actually much older than that. In Germany's case this isn't really even that much of a reference to the show's whole is HRE really Germany as a child thing, this is a matter of history. Unification of Germany was January 18 1871, putting his surface age at 139 years, but considering the whole of the Holy Roman Empire is also counted as German history (the empire's name being fully "Holy Roman Empire of Germany") his true age is about 1048 years old. On to Prussia who must also be raising questions as the first incarnation of Prussia mentioned within the show (The _Ordensstaat _or Teutonic Knights) was around 1224 AD. Before that though was Old Prussians the old Baltic tribe and even further back you get to the ancient state of _Nordmark_ or the Northern March in 965 (yes, he is only 1045 years old even considering this…) If anyone is really interested in how I have the transition between all his states working out, feel free to ask because I know this can be quite confusing.

Nigger-Lipping-To anyone not familiar with the terminology of smoking a joint this is **not** me being racist, but an actual term. It is the action of slobbering on the end of a joint, a very gross thing to deal with and is heavily frowned upon.

Danke-Thanks

Verfickt-Fuck (basically)

I wrote you a book! Whooo! Sorry, I didn't mean to bore you or give you headaches, I just feel the need to explain to show I'm not just pulling stuff outta my ass.


	3. Sunday Night, Monday Morning

**Sunday Night**

People massed the hallways of the old frat house, music blared, alcohol flowed in great waves. The thick, white smoke caught in the top of the room was an issue as well, but nobody talked about it. From the moment Sam and Dean walked into the house they swore they had just gotten contact high and drunk. Parties like _these _were what made Dean wish he went to college, despite how much fun they obviously were, he correctly guessed that Sam never went to things like this.

Sam grabbed a random passerby then, asking "Do you know a Carl DeShawn?" The student pointed across the room at a man hanging back and just observing. A cold look in his eyes told the boys he was very apprehensive about being at the party to begin with. Maybe he was here to keep an eye on people.

Grabbing a beer from the table, Dean walked over to the man, Sam in tow. DeShawn's eyes popped up to them, suspicion gleaming bright.

"Hello Mr. DeShawn," Dean greeted, pulling out his badge to show him.

"Hello." He took the badge to examine it, "Agent Tyler." passing the badge back to Dean his eyes now held distain, "What can I do for you?"

"My associate, agent Gimble behind me and I would like to hear your opinion upon what happened to your girlfriend, Sarah I believe her name was. We talked to your roommate Mr. John Foraker earlier today." DeShawn's eyes narrowed, he wouldn't trust government agents any further than he could throw them and by his fairly lanky appearance, wasn't too far.

"Sarah was murdered in her own dorm room. I don't care what you do to me, I will no-"

"Whoa, whoa, we're not here to do anything to you guy, we have just been looking into some accounts from students about missing persons. We were curious why they never got any media coverage and why full police reports were never filed. We're as in the dark about this as you are." Sam jumped in before DeShawn could make Dean mad. The expression on DeShawn's face lightened just a little bit, knowing that the two were genuinely there to help.

"I can't tell you much more, all I know is that the government is trying to cover up her death. The deaths of _all_ the missing women around here." Dean nodded and looked to his brother curiously.

"Is there anyone else we could talk to? Anyone else with missing friends?" Dean asked, as expected, DeShawn indicated the whole room of people.

"Take your pick."

"We'll do just that. Thanks for your time Mr. DeShawn." Sam bid the man before the brothers left him be. As they walked away, Dean asked, "So, who now?" The taller brother just sighed and shrugged, looking around the room before his face taking on a decidedly more confused expression.

"What?" Dean asked, trying to see what the gigantic man standing next to him could with little avail. "Speak up stretch, what is it?"

"Alfred?" Sam questioningly asked, the blonde Dean had run into earlier that day looking around for someone who had called his name. When Sam and Alfred's eyes met there was about a second of confusion before recognition set in.

On Alfred's end though, recognition of both the men set in along with an intense feeling of "oh shit".

"Sam! How you doing?" Alfred amicably greeted, holding his hand out and Sam taking it without second thought.

"Fine! Great, just… What are you still doing here?" Sam questioned, noticing the look of alarm on Dean's face just then. "I mean, I thought you would have graduated by now."

"Oh I have! I have! Just come back for the nostalgia, ya know? Parties and all that." Alfred's eyes rested on Dean next, "Agent Tyler… Nice to see you again." Sam's eyes suddenly darting to Dean didn't escape Alfred's notice, they had obviously failed to exchange information earlier. Judging by the old license Alfred had found earlier that had he and Sam baring the same last name, Dean was his brother. His older brother at that more than likely.

"Hello Mr. Jones. Nice to see you here tonight too." Dean said in calm salutation, hoping to god that Sam had never shown Alfred a picture of him before. "So, Sam, you know him?" he prodded.

"Oh, yes. Uhm, Alfred was a student while I was here, studying law as well. Top of the class if I remember."

"You betcha! Best in academics and gettin' the ladies both. Who says you have to sacrifice one for the other, eh Sam?" While the Winchesters looked slightly uncomfortable about this situation, Alfred failed to notice and was well-aware of the strange occurrences that lead to Sam's eventual disappearance. Him, being him though, he didn't keep his mouth shut, "What's the story with Jess by the way?" Sam and Dean both stared at him coldly then and Alfred took a step back, "Sorry I asked."

"Alfred!" The three looked around for someone who had called his name, the brothers finding no one but Alfred easily locating the source.

"What's up Matt?" The blonde greeted his younger brother, much to the confusion of the other pair of brothers.

"Who are you talking to?" Dean asked, Matthew standing not three feet from him. The man in question lidded his eyes a little in irritation. He gave his older brother a look and Alfred laughed.

"My little brother." He patted Matthew's shoulder and the Winchesters backed away suddenly as if Matthew had just appeared out of thin air.

"Whoa!" The older Winchester exclaimed, taking a few steps back, his hand went to his suit to retrieve his gun and Matthew's hands flew up frantically.

"I'm sorry! Th-This sort of thing happens with me a lot! Most people don't notice me at first." While he certainly couldn't be _killed_ by Dean if he shot him, it would still really hurt. He made a note in the back of his mind to never surprise this man, it would be awkward to explain why getting shot didn't kill him.

Suspiciously looking to Sam, Dean narrowed his eyes when he returned his gaze to the two men who were obviously twins, "Sorry, my mistake…" he apologized quietly, taking his hand from his gun. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief and was then interrogated by Sam.

"I didn't know Alfred had a younger brother. Much less a twin." The tallest of them looked to Alfred and the happy-go-lucky American laughed.

"Darn tootin'!" The obnoxious older brother threw his arm around Matthew and pulled him roughly against him, "Of course, he's not as good lookin' as the original, is he?" His younger brother sighed in irritation and fixed his glasses, reaching a hand out towards Sam and Dean.

"Matthew Williams." he introduced himself, Sam shaking his hand right away and Dean a little bit more apprehensive. _Normal_ people didn't just pop into existence. But he did seem fairly unobtrusive… Maybe it was possible that he just hadn't noticed him.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Alfred complained when they didn't answer his question.

"That is exactly what I hope these men will do, Al." "These men" stared at the brothers as they felt an inevitable brotherly squabble. Which, as it started, the Winchesters couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Granted, they didn't understand why as it was totally unlike any of the arguments _they_ had ever had… Mostly.

"You don't love me anymore do you?"

"What?" Matthew yelled, though, one really couldn't call his meek little voice being raised as "yelling". It barely came up to Dean's regular _speaking_ level.

"You're embarrassed by me!"

"Alfred, the whole _world_ is embarrassed by you!"

"That's not true! I'm the hero of the world and you know it!"

"Oh sure, just ask **Ludwig**!" Tension suddenly filled the air and no one wanted to speak now.

"Uhm… We're just going to… Go get something to drink!" Sam interjected through the awkwardness, grabbing Dean's shoulder, "Don't go anywhere." Both of the blondes agreeing, Sam dragged Dean off through the crowd to the table where all the drinks were sitting.

"Jesus! Those two are more fun than a sack of hammers." Dean commented, looking back through the mass of people to see them still squabbling. Well, Alfred largely dominated the squabbling and Matthew was now working his hardest to calm him down.

"Yeah." Sam sighed, remembering why he never really spent a lot of time around Alfred, the man was moody and had enough energy to power New York city for a month. As they walked, Dean really didn't pay much attention to where he was going, his eyes fixed upon the veritable smorgasbord of alcohol before him. Sam looked upon it with amusement, but the man Dean bumped into was less than amused with him.

"Vatch id butty!" A man that could only be described as albino yelled at Dean harshly, some of his beer spilled down both of them when they collided.

"Whoa, calm down, it was an accident." the human tried to pass off calmly, not wanting this to come to a fight on their first night.

"You schtill neet to vatch vhere you're going." The sentence was punctuated by a stab at Dean's shoulder with his index finger.

"Well maybe you do too, if you were watching, maybe you would've seen me coming." This man's attitude was really pissing Dean off, also he didn't much like the way he spoke either.

"Dean." Sam tried to intercede, putting his hand to Dean's shoulder, but the man wasn't having it, he knocked Sam's hand off.

"Listen to your boyfreund, you hef **no idea** who you ahre pissing off!" the albino hissed in a way that suggested he was more hoping for a fight than for Dean to back down.

"No! You have no idea who **you** are pissing off! Call my brother my boyfriend _one more time_ you damn Nazi!" Well now… Dean had skipped formalities and had gone straight for the throat, little did he know the Prussian hadn't been a Nazi in years. The white-haired man threw his head back and laughed, gaining the attention of everyone in the room with his very peculiar "kesesesesese!"

Far away on the other side of the crowd, Matthew ignored his brother's yelling to be alarmed at the laugh.

"Oh no." He took off into the sea of people, Alfred pursuing him to lecture him on how rude it was to run out on a conversation. It was very easy to slip in between people when (as far as they were concerned) were being pushed by an unseen force. When the two blondes came upon the scene they found Dean and Gilbert with bloody noses, Sam standing off to the side pinching the bridge of his own as the men lunged once again. "Gilbert!" Matthew angrily yelled (once again, more like a regular speaking voice) and somehow over the roar of people, the albino's head looked up from his victim. Just as that happened, one of Dean's fists flew up and smashed into his jaw.

"You'll pay for dat you liddle schid!" And the rolling on the floor continued, them knocking into the table of alcohol and thereafter being showered with various awesome-tasting beverages. They suddenly thrust away from each other and lunged again. Both were quite experienced at hand-to-hand combat, but it was more than clear which of them had lived longer (and hence resorted to more dirty fighting) when Gilbert planted his steel-toed boot harshly between Dean's legs. Everyone in the crowd winced and a quiet "Aaagh!" rang out over them as many men contemplated the sheer pain that Dean must've been in.

"Alright that's enough!" Sam ran in to peel his brother off the floor and Matthew at the same time to chastise Gilbert for getting into an unfair fight.

"He schtardet id!" Gilbert complained to his lover.

"Shut the fuck up! I started nothing!" Dean managed to yell in a strangled voice. Meanwhile, Dean hadn't noticed Castiel had been since called in by Sam in case the fight hadn't worked itself out (if that's what you could have called its conclusion). The angel walked into the open circle of people and spied Dean's clearly less than powerful position in Sam's arms.

"Dean, what happened?" He asked as Gilbert was still being reprimanded by his boyfriend.

"Fuck, Cas. That damn kraut just picks a fight with me over bumping into him!" Not that Dean was asking Castiel to take care of the problem, never would he, but he knew Cas would harass him for it until he got an answer.

"Id vas your damn fauld!" Gilbert growled past Matthew and somewhere in the group of people someone yelled.

"Guys! This is so not cool! Pay attention to me!" Apparently Alfred had been going on trying to get people's attention for most of the fight and no one cared enough to look.

"Would everyone **shut up** for two minutes!" Matthew "yelled" despite his lack of volume, everyone in the room went silent and fixed their attentions upon him. It was a new experience for Matthew, but he would deal. "Okay, sir." Matthew looked to Castiel, butterflies in his stomach; something just wasn't right about him. "My boyfriend here," he had been homosexual for only God knew how long, he was fine with admitting it in a space full of humans, "is a little bit more irritable than most."

"_Madd_!" Gilbert began to complain only to be swiftly shut up by a look from the small blonde.

"Dean…" Matthew looked to him, "I'm sorry for the trouble he caused you, can I persuade you to let it go?" As he addressed Dean, Cas tipped his head to the side, examining Matthew, he sensed something not completely human about him as well. His eyes then flicked to Gilbert then to Alfred who had now forced his way out of the people, remaining (surprisingly) quiet on the sidelines.

"Just fuckin' keep him away from me." Dean shoved himself up from Sam and stalked his way through the crowd, heading to leave the room, Sam going after him. This left Castiel with the two nations and Matthew sighing in a defeated way.

"I know the feeling." Cas told him.

"Oh? What do you mean?" Matthew questioned, wanting to spend a bit more time with this curious… Thing, whatever he was.

"'Hot-headed significant others can be difficult." The blonde blinked for a second as it took him a moment to process that this man and Dean were like himself and Gilbert. Without further word, Castiel followed Dean and Sam out of the building, him casting Matthew one final, curious glance. So the feeling between the two _had_ been mutual. It made Matthew shiver to finally have to pay attention to all the weird things that lived within his nation that he would have preferred to say didn't exist. Whatever he was though, he had the feeling he didn't want to know.

()()()

"Damn Sam, I never really gave you credit for some of the weirdos you hung out with in college." Dean grumbled, sitting down in the Impala, wanting to ice his poor, abused balls.

"Alfred was just kind of a guy I saw every now and again. We weren't really friends. I didn't know he even had a brother. Much less one that had such a violent boyfriend." Castiel came to stand next to Sam, seeming to be sucking on his tongue in thought. "What is it?"

"The boy isn't human." The angel's grainy voice informed them almost dubiously.

"I knew it." Dean said with a smirk, "What is he?"

"I am not sure. All I know is that he isn't, neither is the one you fought with."

"Hah! I knew there was something not right about him!"

"Because someone was actually better than you at fighting?" Sam poked with a quirked brow.

"No, he just… He really gave me the creeps." Dean clarified, but suddenly something came to him as he turned his head back to Castiel, "You don't _know_ what he is?" The angel shook his head confusion on his face. More like scared confusion, as if he had never been unsure about anything in his life. It actually reminded Dean of Castiel's first time questioning his orders.

"Well, if he's not human, it would probably be not too insane to say that Alfred isn't human either." Sam sucked on his tongue then got an idea, "Look back through the school records, he was here already when I got here, I want to know exactly how long he has been going here."

"Sure… Right when I can feel my nuts again and this nausea passes."

()()()

"Alfred!" Matthew chased after his irritated brother, Gilbert moseying his way behind them, cigarette hanging from his lips. "Wait! It's important!"

"You ignored me! So I'll do the same to you!" Alfred responded, crossing his arms as he continued his trek away from his younger sibling.

"For the record if that's what you're going for you're failing miserably at it!" When Alfred didn't respond Matthew chastised himself for how counterproductive _that_ exchange was. "Really though! You saw that guy with the messy hair and blue eyes right?" He asked and the brother slowed his running, looking over his shoulder at him and nodding. "Did you notice it too?"

"Him not being human_ or_ nation?"

"Yeah… What do you think he is?" Matthew looked back in case Gilbert had also noticed (which, yeah, he was awesome like that and had too). "Any theories?"

"None from me." Gilbert told them, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and watching the smoke float out and up into the air.

"Alfred?"

"Hm…" The American started, "I can try to see who he is." Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the worlds most beat-up, falling-apart wallet ever in use. "Whoa…" Alfred's eyes went wide looking at it. It looked as if it had been soaked in blood, sweat and God knows what else on top of having the shit beaten out of it. Moreover it also looked like it had been crammed in the same pocket, untouched for the better part of three years. "Whoever he is, he don't fuck around." Alfred commented, opening the wallet with care so it didn't fall apart. "Well, his name is Jimmy Novak. Everything else though…" He showed the inside of the wallet to Matthew and Gilbert. Everything that wasn't laminated was sloshed with all kinds of nasty little colors (the most prominent being the color of dried blood). "I think it stands to say we need to do a little bit of research here."

()()()

Once back at his home, Alfred pulled up the correct program on his computer and referred back to Jimmy's driver's license, "Pontiac Illinois." He mumbled absently as he typed it into the engine. It easily pulled up a picture and all Jimmy's information.

"What do you have?" Matthew asked, leaning over Alfred's shoulder.

"Jimmy S. Novak. Married with a daughter, looks like a missing persons was filed about three years ago…" Clicking around on the page brought up something _else_ interesting, "He was effectively declared dead about _two_ years ago." Alfred's eyes flicked up over his glasses to his brother who was avidly reading the information on him.

"So, what makes him show up here?" Matthew questioned, pulling a chair over to sit next to Alfred.

"I don't know." For the better part of a minute they sat and thought, paying no attention to the fact that Gilbert had been standing in the room the whole time and had his "I got a theory" face on.

"Aaaaghhhhem!" The loud throat-clearing cough readily caught the attention of the two North American boys.

"Yes Gil?" Matthew acknowledged first.

"Efer doughd dat _maybe_ he appearing hier vid a _boyfreund_ vas de reason for his disappearance?" Gilbert proposed, grinding out his newest cigarette into the ashtray he had carried with him.

"So, he chose to drop off the map because of a boyfriend… Why?" Alfred questioned, easily gaining two irritated stares. "What?"

"Well, Gil, it might explain his need to disappear, but why here and now?" The Canadian continued, knowing his brother too dense to understand.

"Jus' luck. Bud, dat human vas able to go het to het vid me in a fair fighd. He vasn'd normal, vell, he _vas_ human, bud von dat knew his vay arount a fighd."

"It's not surprising for a guy to know how to fight if he has an interest in it. Look at his job too, an agent for the FBI? He's gotta know _something_ about fighting." The blonde reasoned, Alfred sitting back to listen now. "Granted, he's probably not a real agent, so whatever his true occupation is…"

"He knew too much ist vhat I'm saying. Knowing a ding or two und hefing to pud id indo practice on a daily basis are two dif'rnd dings, Madd." The albino strode around to the other side of the desk and bent between the brothers to look at the screen. "Daytime ratio at time zalesman? No vonter dis guy god losd."

"That's rude."

"Und he isn'd in de room ist he?" Gilbert reasoned, patting his boyfriend on the head gently. Occasionally, Matthew didn't like how condescending Gilbert could be to him. Then he would remember that he was much older and had been through more as a nation than he. The man had been like that all his life, it was a hard habit to rid himself of. "Vhy ditn'd you pud his valled back by de vay?" He turned his gaze to Alfred.

"Oh, I guess I forgot." The American was actually in the process of flipping through it, looking at the various water-damaged pictures and cards in it. From what he could gather, he loved his wife and daughter a lot, he was a Christian (not surprising), sold daytime radio ad time (thanks, but already knew that) and had a thing for submarine sandwiches. Packed in the very back of his wallet though, he found a family portrait. The man in it was smiling away, the lines in his face more from laughter than worry. "Hey Matt, look here."

"What is it?" The moment Matthew laid eyes on the photo he knew what was wrong. While they were certainly physiologically identical, there was something in this man's eyes that rang human. The man he had met lacked that feeling even at a first glance, "He's different." Matthew simply said, thinking it quite funny that _Alfred_ of all people would realize this. "Wait, Dean called him 'Cas'. Do you think he also changed his name?"

"Why does he have his old ID with him if he did?"

"Zendimendal?" Gilbert posed and then a light bulb seemed to go off in Alfred's head. The Canadian and Prussian sensing this, they leaned in to see what Alfred had come up with.

"Guys… I think we have an evil twin here!" The two quickly deflated and leaned out.

"Nice try, Al. Not happening though." Matthew sighed, realizing they were pretty much at square one still.

"Okay, body snatcher?"

"More likely dan de firsd." Gilbert had to say, "Bud I dink ve neet to actually obserf dem."

"Not really a bad idea." Matthew conceded, "I'd rather we actually do this by ourselves too rather than have the government do it."

"Why? The government is your friend." Alfred said in his cheesiest voice ever, at least he no longer believed his own lies in that respect.

"One, it's personal interest, and two… Well, something tells me they do this _a lot_ the impersonating FBI agents."

"Why don't we turn them in then?"

"As you would say Alfred, where's the fun in that?" Canada had definitively been spending way too much time with Alfred in the past couple months. Of course, his more lax morals could also be because of who he was currently dating.

"Zounds like fun!" Gilbert said with a grin.

"I'm tired…" Alfred then cut in and the rest of the group remembered the time…

"Yeah…" The younger blonde agreed with his brother.

"_Ja_… Goot nighd." And just like that, their investigation was delayed by a whole six hours.

()()()

**Monday Morning**

The Winchester brothers (with the slight accompaniment of Castiel, busy as he was with other things) stayed up the night doing research on the school. What they had found was more than surprising. They went back through every graduating class and every year found at least one "A. Jones" (in some cases more than once). Sometimes the "A" stood for Anthony or something, but every four years when they in-depth looked at the names it was always an Alfred F. Jones. The brothers checked picture histories too and it was disturbing just how old this single man would have had to have been. He appeared in all manner of black and white pictures (with varying degree's of involvement with curricular activities) and for a span of a few years within the school's earlier history ended up in the faculty photo!

After some serious sifting though, Sam had managed to locate the photo taken of the first graduating class. Among the graduates and standing right next to the graduating thirty-first president of the United States, Herbert Hoover was Alfred, grinning away with his arm slung over the man's shoulders. He had been friends with a former president in college? Upon closer inspection of his face, ol' Herbert didn't seem too thrilled with having Alfred standing so close, but whatever, that was still amusing.

"Dean." Sam shook his brother awake, he himself had woken up at around seven (yeah, three hours) and had let him sleep in.

"Mmn? What?" Dean sat up and looked at his brother curiously.

"Look what I found." Sam turned the computer to face Dean and the man looked at it. "Read the date."

"Damn… The mother-fucker's old."

"First time I asked him for an age he said nineteen and since he doesn't look any older, it's pretty easy to say that he was nineteen when he came to Stanford. This photo places his age at around 138 years."

"So, he's what? A zombie? A vampire?"

"We don't have a lot to go on. We really don't even know if he's the one that has been killing people."

"Killing or not, he's still a freak that needs to be taken care of." The older Winchester hauled himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom to get ready. As Dean did that, Sam went back to going through records and pictures, marveling at Alfred's changes in styles as the years went by. Unlike most people who seemed to freeze their fashions at a certain age, with each new decade he fully embraced everything about it. Sam had to say his favorite pictures were the ones during the seventies and sixties. The eighties was scary and the nineties… Yeah, not going there. The most recent picture Alfred had ended up in, he was looking decidedly more somber. Usually when there was a camera around he was all grins, but this time he hardly even seemed to notice the camera. The date on the photo was some time last month, he sitting on a bench with an apparently Japanese man conversing with him. He found himself wondering if the Japanese man was one of his friends he could get into contact with…

Twenty minutes later, Dean walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed and ready for the day.

"Ready to go?" He questioned his brother, Sam looked up from his studies and to him, replying with, "Sure."

"Come on then." Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala and walked outside, Sam following close behind, becoming more and more dubious about the case with each step.

()()()()()

Notes:

Jimmy's Wallet-I assumed that since Jimmy didn't know Cas was going to completely take over his meat suit that he was smart enough to bring his wallet with him when he left. But, since Cas is Cas and doesn't know what a wallet is for I always assumed it was somewhere on his person as I don't think it would ever occur to him to get rid of it. It's just by some miracle that it's still crammed in one of his various pockets.

The S in Jimmy's name-I just made up a middle initial, it's either Saul or Silas (I'm going off of the high probability that his parents were religious of course).

Herbert Hoover-Yep, he was in the first graduating class at Stanford XD No, Alfred didn't know that Hoover was going to be his boss some day, but it was sure a big surprise for both of them when they found out they were working together later on.

Sorry this chapter took so long to get up ;3; I'll be faster from now on!


	4. Monday, Monday Night

**Monday**

Now that the Winchesters actually had a name to ask after, their first stop was administration. It yielded little results as Alfred's name was so commonly in the database. But it was possible to ask who the most recent entry had as a roommate. As it turned out, Alfred was actually currently enrolled and even had a dorm. The man was an easy liar apparently… Anyway, he had a roommate and the woman at the desk was only too happy to grant it to two strapping young men.

Thoroughly creeped out by the cougar behind the desk, Dean accepted the room number and off he went, suppressing a shiver. Sure, one could say she was more age appropriate for him than Castiel was, but dammit it was creepier when the person really was human. Sam nudged him in the shoulder with a snigger and Dean responded with "She's staring at your ass."

They both quickly sped out of the room without further mention of this embarrassing situation and eventually ended up at the dorms.

"Okay, no mention of that is to leave this case, got it?" Dean made sure to tell Sam.

"It's not like it hasn't happened before in worse places." Need they actually be reminded of chasing a vampire into a gay bar and getting hit on by everyone in there? Each one of them saying "I like a man in uniform".

"You got a point." The older brother amended, pushing the buzzer for entrance into the building.

"Hello?" A voice on the intercom said.

"Seth Moore?" Sam asked.

"Yes?" The man on the other end uneasily confirmed, he obviously was more used to people calling for Alfred rather than himself.

"This is agent Gimble from the FBI, my partner and I would like to come up and ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

"FBI?" Moore sounded really off balance now.

"Yes, we need some information on your roommate Alfred Jones." Sam was getting tired of standing around.

"Oh… Alfred…" He sounded a little bit more assured now. Vaguely the brothers wondered if the man had done something recently that would have gained him attention from the authorities. "Yeah, come on in." Dean pulled on the door to find it open and Sam followed him in.

Across the way, on a bench, two men took a break from sucking face to watch them, Matthew pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Alfred's number as Gilbert looked irritated.

"Hey Al." Matthew greeted once the man picked up.

"What?" The American had only woken up about ten minutes ago, the other two had already left in case the brothers were early risers.

"They've found your dorm and are going up to talk to Seth." Matthew caught his breath in his throat when Gilbert chose to be extremely forward with his hand.

"Don'd make a zcene." Gilbert growled lowly in the blonde's ear, nibbling on his neck as his hand fished down into the confines of Matthew's pants. The Canadian just gave him a somewhat timid look and listened to Alfred speak.

"It's not like he knows anything about me." Alfred informed him.

"You two have been at least friends for two years…" Matthew had to pause to release a breathy moan, "He's been to your home here. And if the two of them are around because of all the women you've had to off Alfred… He will tell them you get around probably."

"They don't have anything to connect me to their deaths though." Alfred tweaked his eyebrow on the other end as he heard some panting away from the phone. He considered asking if something was wrong, but he figured it a much better alternative to not know.

"The mere fact that you were with them will be enough to get you in some trouble."

"Big deal, what can_ they_ do to me? I _am_ the government, they can't do shit."

"You have a point. But I'm more worried about that other guy than the humans."

"Why?"

"He's not human, there's the possibility he could do something very bad if we present ourselves as a threat to them." Quickly, the Canadian buried the phone in fabric of his sweatshirt and released a high moan as a hot stickiness made his pants rather uncomfortable. Gilbert looked very satisfied with himself and wiped his hand off before removing it completely. He zipped up Matthew's pants and the man shifted in an attempt to get rid of the embarrassing feeling. Which was made worse by that look the albino was giving him.

"Well, I can go by Iggy's and ask him what he thinks if you can get me a picture of the guy."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because I've already checked to see if there's a picture of him. All I got was a handful of ashes." Alfred informed him, "I was also thinking about going to see his wife and kid." The American was getting dressed by now, buttoning up his shirt and tucking it into his pants.

"Alright, I'll try to get a picture of him in the meantime. Hopefully Sam and Dean will meet up with him sometime."

"Yeah, talk to you later."

"Bye." Matthew closed his phone and turned his attention to Gilbert, landing a firm punch to the man's cheek, making the albino fall sideways to the grass. "What the hell?"

"Oh come on, you liket id!" Gilbert kesesesed on the ground, rubbing his cheek.

"I have to change pants now!" The Canadian stood up, his face twitching at the odd sensation, "Stay here and watch for the brothers!"

"Vaid!"

"No!" Matthew stomped off in the direction of his car, leaving Gilbert on the ground, grumbling to himself.

()()()

"Can you tell us who he's been doing?" Dean bluntly asked Seth as they had been discussing Alfred's sexual promiscuity.

Seth was a somewhat short man, only about five foot six, this made worse by the fact he seemed to hunch over a lot, he spoke in a low voice and constantly fidgeted with his fingers. All of these things on their own would have been fine, hell, Dean would have said he maybe played the piano obsessively (which wasn't really too far off the mark), but Seth also had a pair of shifty, loden-colored eyes. The eyes roamed about the room all the time as well as up and down Sam and Dean's bodies. If Dean had to compare Seth to Alfred as to who he would guess was the inhuman one, he would definitely pick Seth as opposed to Alfred.

"Nearly any girl that he thinks is pretty." Seth paused to stare off into space, he was a kind of creepy and frankly, suspicious guy when the brothers thought about it, "You know, the usual suspects." He continued, his eyes resuming their trek around the room, "Blonde, blue eyes, I've also found they have their hair pulled back most of the time."

"You've been paying attention to all the girls he screws?" Sam chose to ask.

"He's a braggart." Alfred's roommate said, "He trusts me, I think." It was a very curious thing that anyone would ever trust him at all… "I guess he's getting cocky about there never being any news on what he does." Another of Seth's creepy moments of staring, "He doesn't expect me to look up any of the girls he's been with. They're all missing or presumed dead." Well, that was the seal to the deal, it was Alfred, but Seth's proclivities towards being a creepy stalker had the boys intrigued as well.

"What made you decide to watch Alfred's romantic entanglements?" It was a question Dean had wanted to ask too, actually, just he wouldn't have put it so eloquently for sure. Seth's shifty eyes stopped and his eyelids dropped slightly as his gaze settled on the floor. He pulled his arms up around himself tightly, presumably thinking about something important.

"Alfred is private about the things in life that matter to him. I've only ever seen his brother once and I've only ever heard his boyfriend's name in passing." Both Sam and Dean's eyebrows went up at the mention of the word "boyfriend". "When it comes to fucking whoever he wants… He's open about it, more so now than he used to be. I never had stories of this while he was with… Ludwig, I think was his name."

"They broke up?" Dean interrupted, getting a soul-eating look from Seth's melancholy eyes. Suddenly, Dean had the feeling that maybe Seth hadn't always been so fucked up.

"Two months ago…" Brilliant, Sam supposed that throwing himself into women was a way of coping for Alfred, "But, he now talks about it whenever he's here. Which isn't much anymore, he has a house a little bit away."

"He has his own house? Can we get an address?" Sam interrupted this time, receiving Seth's chilling stare.

"In time." This thoroughly annoyed both the men, but maybe this was just Seth's way of saying he had more to tell them, "When he first broke up with the guy… He did nothing for days. He didn't even go home, he was just here." Seth stared into space, his usually blank stare becoming a bit more menacing was his eyebrows turned downward. "He started perking up when he went back to classes…" The man's hands began to shake "Alfred will screw anything that moves, even a faculty member." Dean flicked his eyes to Sam, giving him a worried look "Her name was Lisa Moore." He growled, his body starting to angrily shake as the brothers looked on, "When Alfred first said he had got in good with her… He asked 'she related to you?'… I just said no, if my aunt wanted to screw a student, I was fine with it… I didn't want to put Alfred out when he was finally appearing to be happier." Tears started to stream down Seth's face, his nails digging fiercely into his arms "She was officially reported missing the day after Alfred had told me…" He jumped to his feet, startling both the Winchesters into doing the same "He killed Lisa! Murderous, lying bastard!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down man." Dean gently suggested, putting a hand to Seth's shoulder, "We have enough information to convict him right here."

"You won't convict him! There's something not right about him. The police act as if he doesn't exist!"

"We're different Mr. Moore, we'll make sure he's punished." The younger Winchester promised as Seth dropped back down to his bed, covering his face with his hands. All the anxiety his body held and suspicious behavior clearly stemmed from Alfred's troubling his life. Dean shifted his hand from his shoulder into his pockets looking to Sam with hopeful eyes. This had been one of the easier jobs they'd had as far as getting confessions.

"Thank you." Seth mumbled into his hands, not wanting to meet the gazes of two men obviously better than him.

"It will be okay." Sam's hand replaced Dean's on Seth's shoulder, "Agent Tyler, mind going down and writing all this down in a report? I'll be down in a minute."

"Sure thing." Dean said with a smirk, stepping out of the dorm room and heading excitedly down the stairs. "Hey, Castiel, my prayin' comin' in loud and clear?" He began once outside and clearly in sight of the albino successfully hidden in a tree.

Gilbert made a mental note that the guy's full name was "Castiel" instead of just Cas. For someone who was trying to disappear he certainly did pick a very non-discreet name. Maybe the guy was just deeply religious by the motif the name had.

"We know it was Alfred that killed them. We just could use some help figuring out what the hell the freak is. If you don't know it's doubted Bobby will know anything about it." Dean prayed to Cas, but to anyone else it looked he was talking to the air.

"De guy's a complede lunadic…" Gilbert voiced this thought. On the other hand, Moore must've squealed to the brothers if he knew for sure that Alfred had been killing all the girls. Sighing, Gilbert kept his eyes on Dean, nearly falling out of the tree when the weird guy in the trench coat appeared out of nowhere. "De fuck…"

"I'm busy, Dean." Castiel greeted, an open scrape on his cheek.

"Nice to see you too huggy-bear." This time, Dean meant it more in his old sarcastic way.

"I haven't had time to look for anything." The angel stated, noticing Dean's fixation on the bleeding cut. Promptly he focused his energies on it to heal it and Dean's eyes wandered elsewhere, maybe thinking his own concern a little superfluous.

"Alright… I take it the fight's not going well?"

"Considerably better this time. I was actually able to slip away to attend you." Cas' hand came up and took Dean's gingerly.

"Gay." Gilbert sniggered from his branch, abruptly bringing that to an end as he noticed trench coat man was gone. There was a slight breeze in the tree and Gilbert looked up, slowly, seeing Castiel staring straight down at him, one hand grabbed onto a branch above his head while both legs were braced against another. He didn't have enough time assess that this was a very bad thing _and_ move, so he got to the part where his eyes got wide before there was a rough hand grasping the back of his coat. As far as odd sensations go, the one this freak induced of him leaving his stomach in the tree while his ass hit the grass was a new and very unwelcome one.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Dean would've chuckled at his tremendously good luck if Cas hadn't interrupted first.

"I am not a cat, Dean." The hunter just gave his significant other a look of "wtf" and Gilbert recovered from his brief flight enough to say "Fuck."

"Yeah that's right you're fucked. Hey… What are you doing?" Gilbert appeared to be fidgeting with something in his hand and when Dean attempted to see what it was, a cell phone was raised, snapping a quick photo of Cas' confused and irritated face. The albino had just enough time to click send on the photo before it was kicked out of his hand rather painfully.

"Hey!" Prussia jumped to his feet, readying to take both of them on with all the cockiness of the narcissistic nation he was. He threw a punch, which Dean readily avoided, Cas hitting the man harshly on the back with his open palm. Gilbert fell unconscious to Dean's feet and the older Winchester looked to the angel curiously.

"That was more forceful than normal."

"Humans are simple to knock out. Just a touch from my fingers does it. I needed a larger conduit for the energy. He wasn't easy."

"So… He's kinda human?" Dean assumed since it wasn't like a demon exorcism from one touch, nor did Gilbert seem to actually be harmed in any way.

"More human than most of what you fight. But not human in the least by comparison to a real one." Castiel explained, Sam choosing to stroll out of the dorms to see Cas and Dean standing over the prostrate form of the albino.

"You are not going to _believe_ our good luck Sammy!" Dean grinned largely at his brother, "Now just to move him." At this, Cas leaned over and threw Gilbert over his shoulder, disappearing immediately. "Nevermind…"

"Think he took him back to the motel?"

"Where else would he?"

"Well… Cas didn't know what he was, maybe they have some sort of heavenly Auschwitz up there."

"Heavenly Auschwitz?" Such a line of incredulity was most often Sam's thing, it made Dean snigger and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess it's a little preposterous, either way, if he did take him back to the motel, we need to get there ASAP." Just like that, the two were off for the impala, practically racing the whole way.

()()()

Matthew had just finished pulling on a new pair of pants when he got the picture from Gilbert on his phone. It was a little worrisome by the angle it was taken, like he was laying on his back beneath this guy. Gilbert was a good fighter though, so he remembered to keep himself calm and send it to Alfred to ask Arthur about. Alfred probably wouldn't even notice the suspiciousness about the picture and so Matt had no reason to worry about Alfred becoming distracted. Himself though? He bolted out the door as soon as sending the picture, what in the hell had Gilbert gone and gotten himself into now?

()()()

Meanwhile, forever and a heartbeat away, Alfred received the picture and simply texted a "thx" in return, knocking on England's door.

"Oi, what do you want?" Arthur answered the door, not even bothering with the formality of "hello". There wasn't much of a point to it after knowing someone for over 200 years.

"I need help."

"It took you how long to figure this out?"

"Arthur…"

"Well now, what's got you all bloody serious then, eh?" The shorter blonde stepped from the way and Alfred hurried inside, it was cooler in England in the fall.

"There are these strange guys wandering around Stanford. They have this other guy with him, he's not human." Arthur threw his head back and laughed at this admission, leading Alfred into his sitting room.

"Human or not, it's not like they pose a threat to you."

"They are looking for the girls I've murdered." The Brit went silent and chewed his tongue, sitting down to pour himself a cup of tea.

"They still won't pose a threat to you."

"It wouldn't be good if my people found out I existed, it would complicate your guys lives too." Arthur sipped his tea an listened, shrugging at the end, "Also, I have no idea what the other guy is. I have citizens of various… Species," Alfred's mother figure sniggered, loving every minute of his finally admitting these things existed "but he is neither of them. He looks human, but there is something distinctly off about him."

"Demon possession?" Arthur suggested.

"Do demons take significant others?"

"What do you mean?"

"Matthew said something about the creepy guy being in good with one of the humans he's with." Alfred finally sat down, Arthur picking up the teapot and pouring some of its contents into a cup for Alfred to sip.

"Not usually… Unless there is something they want." The shorter man remained silent in thought, "Do you think they know he's not human?"

"I'm sure." Alfred accepted his cup of tea and poured a spoonful of sugar into it before stirring.

"Well… Do you have a picture of him?" The American offered Arthur his iphone which the Brit took and looked it over. "He's not a demon."

"How can you tell?"

"Demons can't hide their eyes on cameras."

"What?"

"They have black eyes." Arthur had met demons before, the first time had been the worst day of his life and he vowed never to have a run in with one of the bastards ever again. Back during the last world war, they ran rampant, other nations totally oblivious to them. Not to mention the massive infestation just last year where it seemed the very world was coming to an end. "He's not a demon."

"Then what is he?"

"I don't know." Arthur handed Alfred back his phone and finished his tea sitting it back down on the coffee table in front of him. "Do you know anything about the people he's with?"

"Sam and Dean Winchester." His companion simply stated, "I did some digging on Sam, not much came up, Dean though… He's been pronounced dead twice already, has numerous accounts of credit card fraud pinned on him as well as breaking and entering, grave desecration as well as murder." Something seemed to click into place with Arthur as his face brightened considerably after this information. "What?"

"They're hunters."

"What?"

"These two humans you're talking about seem to hunt the supernatural." Suddenly Arthur's face went decidedly grim, "Whether or not they can harm you, they _will_ make your life a living Hell Alfred. Stay away from them."

"Please explain, I'm so lost."

"Okay, well, all the little nasty unnatural things that live in secret to the humans of our nations, most of them kill humans. There are many humans though, that know they exist. They protect the humans that don't know. Unfortunately when you protect people that don't know they need protecting you usually have to break a few laws and that's why Dean has such an extensive police record."

"But… They're only human, they can't hurt me, you said that yourself."

"They are, but they are more equipped for dealing with people like us. Hunters have connections in strange places and many know some interesting techniques of torture. If they get their hands on you and figure out that they can't kill you, they will find other ways to make sure you never see the light of day again. Bury you alive, sink you to the bottom of the ocean, encase you in concrete, _bronze_ you! Hunters are cruelly creative." A thick lump had formed in Alfred's throat, he swallowed and sipped his tea nervously.

"I… I haven't done anything though…"

"You killed those girls Alfred."

"Because I can't help it!"

"Do you think they care? There are creatures out there that _need_ to kill to survive and they take care of them anyway. You kill them because you're lonely and your secret service detail doesn't want anyone that knows about what you are alive.

"Even if that wasn't the case, hunters don't give a shit and not being human is a good enough reason for them to put you on their hit list." Once Arthur finished he stood and walked over to Alfred whose hands were shaking to the point of tea spilling over the sides of his half-empty cup.

"Should I kill them too?" Alfred asked meekly.

"They're important to the lives of your citizens. No… But you can't let them get their hands on you or any other nation for that matter. Just drive them out or try to convince them that you will not harm anyone else." There was a pause before Arthur continued, "Obviously these ones have some amount of pity of one of them is shagging something that's not human. You have a chance here."

"Yeah… I guess I do…" Alfred looked to the clock on the wall, setting down his tea and taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"Now, whatever kind of watchdog those two humans are dragging around with them, I don't know. You'll have to do some searching around, maybe find some other hunters and ask them. Believe it or not, most hunters are connected to each other through different people even if they don't know it. They have a good communications infrastructure."

"How do you know this?"

"I met a few good ones in my day." The ringing of a cell phone suddenly filled the room and Alfred his phone from his pocket, noticing it was Matthew calling.

"Hello?"

"They have Gilbert!" Matthew, his voice overly distressed and angry came over the phone.

Alfred jumped up from his spot, "What? How do you know?"

"I called him to see if he was okay after getting that picture, but he didn't pick up his phone and I found it by your old dorm hall in the grass." He made a frustrated noise, "What do you think they're doing to him?"

"Stay calm, go back to the house and I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay?"

"You better hurry."

"I will, be there in a few." Both the brothers hung up and Alfred about dashed for the door.

"Wait!" Arthur caught his arm, "What happened?"

"The hunters kidnapped Prussia."

"What? How? The wanker would rather parade about in public in a dress than be bested by humans."

"Maybe the creepy guy, Cas, is really powerful."

"Well hurry up and go then." Arthur shoved Alfred out the door and the American rushed for his private plane.

()()()

Back in America, the hunters plus one angel had the albino successfully tied to a heavy chair. Under the chair was the standard devil's trap, a ring of salt outside of that for good measure. It was just like any other demon shake down if not for a few things. As the nation was tightly tied up, the boys ran the gauntlet on him. Pouring holy water on him yielded nothing, cutting him with iron and silver blades did no damage (he even healed almost instantaneously from them). Throwing salt on him didn't upset him, verses from the bible as well, he was pretty damn… Well, normal.

"I am not surprised none of it worked." Castiel confided in Dean while Sam was doing last minute checks to make sure there weren't any faults in the devil's trap.

"Why not? He's just some other supernatural piece of garbage we always deal with." Knowing that Dean didn't really intend it for him, Cas overlooked the piece of garbage comment.

"We don't know what he is." The angel looked over Dean's shoulder to the unconscious nation, "Whatever he is does not even appear to be evil. He isn't a demon, angel or a shape-shifter, revenant or otherwise. If he didn't seem so inherently different from humans I would say that he was one." At this, Dean turned around to look at Gilbert once more.

"So you don't think he's a problem, eh?"

"No."

"He might be for someone else some day, we have to take care of it now." He turned back to face Cas.

"I suppose you are correct, Dean." They both stood there in silence for a second, Dean looking back at Gilbert and Castiel staring at him. Carefully, Castiel raised a hand to Dean's cheek guiding his face back to his. There was a short, much-needed kiss and a smile from Dean. Their moment together didn't last long as there was some kind of shifting noise behind them when they went in for another kiss. Figuring it was just Sam their lips met once more.

"Oh, come on, _gay_!" Dean tore himself away from Cas, snatching up the iron knife and chucking it as hard as he could at the owner of the offending voice. "Gah!" Gilbert yelped when it buried itself deep in his shoulder, "Vhat de fuck?" He yelled, glaring at the object in utter hate.

"You are not one to talk." Castiel reminded the man, stepping next to him and removing the knife from his shoulder.

"Vhat de fuck do you know?" Gilbert hissed at him, seeing exactly what Matthew talked about when meeting his gaze. This man was no more a human than he was himself. He was older and more powerful than any human could ever hope to imagine.

"That boy that broke up the fight." Gilbert looked away at the mention of Matthew, the pain in his already healed shoulder forgotten. "I believe the way you would describe your relationship is '_gay_'." Dean could hardly suppress the urge to snigger at his love, the word was so awkward on Castiel's tongue.

"We are not here to discuss who is having sex with who." Sam chipped in, gaining everyone's attention.

"_Ja_, ve're hier to discuss how douchy your haircud ist." And already Gilbert did the impossible, earned the annoyance of an otherwise sympathetic man.

"The dick might have a point Sam." Dean smiled at him and Castiel stepped away from Gilbert.

"I have to go." He informed Dean and the hunter rolled his eyes at him. "I will not apologize for keeping your world safe, Dean."

"No need, go." Dean made a hand motion of 'go away' and Cas planted one last kiss on him before disappearing. Gilbert's eyes went wide at this spectacle and looked from Sam to Dean in case they thought it was weird too. Seeing no such surprise in their eyes he smoothed over his visage, not wanting to appear at all shaken by this occurrence.

"So… Vhat ist your butty?"

"What?" Dean questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"_Vhat_. _Ist_. _Your_. _But-ty_." Gilbert said louder, not even considering that maybe it was his accent that was the barrier. Then again, he lived with Matthew who never really needed help understanding people.

"Stop talkin' like a Nazi and maybe we would understand you." With this comment, Gilbert's face screwed up into one of anger.

"You fucking stupid _Scheiss-ami_! See! I have racial slurs too!" The Prussian yelled in perfectly accented American English.

"Too bad we don't know German. A slur means little if we don't understand it."

"Actually, I don't even have to insult you. You just did it yourself." Gilbert smiled at Dean.

"Oh c'mon, how many languages do you know?"

"Ten, you?" The older Winchester couldn't respond to that so Gilbert turned his attention to Sam, "_Und du_?"

"Two, but once again, we're off track." Sam tried to steer things into a better position, but Gilbert was having too much fun monopolizing the conversation.

"Agh, Dean, the pretty-boy's smarter than you. Maybe it's true that all American's are inbred. I bet your mother was also your aunt!" Gilbert laughed and quickly found a fist to his face. Okay, many fists, mostly from Dean.

"You will shut the fuck up!" Dean threatened Gilbert with a knife to his throat and the Prussian laughed yet again, blood trickling down from his nose. He didn't even seem to notice when his laughter caused a slight slice in his neck. Not like it really mattered, it healed up instantly.

"You punch like a little girl! And come on! If you're going to cut my neck just do it!" Gilbert leaned forward and intentionally slit his throat, much to Dean's surprise. Sam pulled Dean away from Prussia as some blood spilled out of the albino's neck and swiftly healed up. He didn't even seem put out by the loss of blood, a scar wasn't even present… "You're human, you can't kill me."

"Oh yeah? I bet I can." Dean ran to the duffle bag of weapons and removed his machete. Thinking fast, Sam grabbed Dean's arms and wrestled the huge knife from his hands.

"Stop it, Dean!" The younger of them yelled, Gilbert making his "kesesese" noise in amusement. "Yes, he's a great bit bag of irritating dicks,"

"I bet that sounds like heaven to you!" Gilbert cut in, getting a very loud "Shut up!" from both of the brothers.

"but…" Sam continued, "we have Matthew's boyfriend. If we can't kill him we can at least use him for information."

"You know…" The tone Gilbert spoke in this time was less joking and dead serious, "Yes, Matthew may be my boyfriend, but you know what that means for you?" The other two in the room turned their attention to him, giving him a questioning look, "I can't die and something tells me that through some insane miracle you two dumbasses figured out that hot-ass and fuck-face are like me. So… Here's my question to you." Gilbert smirked and licked his lips, wishing for a cigarette, "If you have me, won't Matthew take this very personally? And when he does, don't you think that his _older_, _protective_ brother will too? How are you two mortals going to stand up to three, very pissed, higher beings who can't die?"

Sam and Dean looked to each other in dismay, perhaps they should have better thought this through. However, that was usually an afterthought of just about every case they had ever been on. Come _on_, they beat the fucking devil for Christ's sake, they could take on a few over-confident vermin couldn't they?

"We've taken care of bigger assholes and more powerful sons of bitches than you, retard." Dean took a few steps towards Gilbert and the nation shifted to a more comfortable position, not the least bit threatened. "If there is a way to kill you, we're going to find it. And if there isn't… There are plenty of ways to improvise." Dean's eyes slipped back to his machete in Sam's hands.

"Oooo, I'm so scared." Prussia cockily purred, Dean picking up a knife and stabbing it deep into Prussia's stomach to make his point. The man winced and spit up a little blood, but didn't show any signs of it being life threatening. He chuckled a couple times and Dean walked away from him, leaving the knife to sit.

"Put a gag on him Sam, he's annoying."

"Kinky." Gilbert said with a smile, allowing Sam to then tie some cloth over his mouth.

()()()

**Monday Night Part 1**

Across the ocean, Ludwig contemplated the dinner he was supposed to be going to in America. Maybe Alfred really _was_ apologetic… Or maybe this was just something that his brother or Matthew made up to get _them_ to make up. He had a really bad feeling about this whole thing and decided that he needed to talk to Italy about it. Yeah, the man was a skirt-chasing ditz, but at least he knew something about relationships.

Picking up his phone to dial Feliciano's number, he noticed he had a picture message from his brother. It was just of a strange man glaring down at the camera… Oh well, Ludwig was the last person in Gilbert's "L's" in his phone and Matthew was the first in his "M's", probably a mis-send. Thinking nothing of the odd picture mail, he called Feliciano and waited for him to answer

()()()

The two blonde brothers staked out the motel they had tracked Dean's extremely noticeable Impala to.

"Why didn't we call Ludwig again?" Matthew asked.

"I don't want him to worry too much. Besides, we can handle this ourselves."

"You just don't want to talk to him."

"Okay, I don't, I'm seeing him tomorrow anyway, I can procrastinate."

"Americans." Matthew sighed, getting a swift punch to his shoulder. They then watched as Sam exited the motel room, heading for the Impala. Seeing no one else around, Alfred gave his little brother the hand gesture for "go". They couldn't expect to break in, their proverbial guns blazing when they had Gilbert. Yes, they couldn't die, but they would prefer to minimize damage. They couldn't _heal_ removed fingers and if they lost them under the bed or something there was no getting them back.

Quietly yet violently the two stronger men were on top of Sam. Sam tried to yell for Dean back in the room and got a mouthful of dirty rag. The fight was terminated when Alfred thrust a cloth drenched in chloroform over Sam's nose. As strong as Sam was, even he couldn't fight the effects and eventually succumbed to it, dropping limp onto Matthew's back. The brothers soundlessly scurried off with sasquatch, the score evened.

()()()()()

Notes:

Scheisse-ami-German slur for Americans it's the only one I can find and basically is just "Shit American"

Und du-And you?

I don't have much to say about this chapter other than now that two people have been kidnapped, shit's gonna go down. Lemme know if you liked!


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